The Outcast Hero
by Akuma Usagi
Summary: One girl has a unique ability. How will she change a post-oblivion gate Cyrodil? Follow as her tale unfolds. (Continuing for the moment) T is mostly for future violence.
1. Introduction

_Disclaimer; I own nothing._

**The Outcast Hero**

_Introduction_

_By: Akuma Usagi_

_AN: This is a slightly dull chapter, but it is needed to show the characters known history and the idea of the story. Let me know what you think, If the majority thinks "This SUCKS!" I won't write anymore. The first chapter should be following soon after this intro but don't hold me to that. Anyways, enjoy!_

The life of an orphan isn't the easiest. On top of that, the life of a freak is worse. My name is Cilia Redwater, friends and family call me Cil, and I am half argonian. The other half? Imperial.

My mother was an argonian, a rare kind with black and red scales. The trait was passed down through her clan for generations. After her brother died she was the only one left. These strange genes gave me a weird…mutation. When I am touched by water I become argonian, when I am dry I am a Imperial. My eyes, however, were always that of a lizard. My mother said it was a survival instinct, my father said it was something else. Like he knew, but he would never tell me.

I mentioned the orphan thing before, well my parents were robbed when I was a child and the thief panicked and killed them. He couldn't bring himself to kill me I suppose, being only 4 years old at the time. I had to live on the streets of Skingrad for a while, hoping for a scrap of food to fall. When I was blamed for a robbery that I didn't commit they didn't throw me in jail. No, no they threw me in a cart with a bag over my head and we rode all the way to the Imperial city. They dropped me in the river there and yelled that I should stay there and become the monster that I was. I tried to climb back out of the water and they shot arrows at me. So I did the only thing I could do; I dived in to the icy, cold water and swam.

I was eight years old.

I swam for awhile before I realized I'd been hit. I went to shore and saw a hunters camp far off. My vision started to go blurry, and I managed to crawl halfway to the camp before my vision went black.

That is how Marcel found me. A kind redguard with black hair and brown eyes, he'd been a hunter for awhile. But he never saw something like me. He found me as I was beginning to dry; as scales turned to skin, fins turned to hair, and claws turned to fingers. He was amazed so he took me home and nursed me back to health.

Marcel has been like a father to me, for all intent and purposes he is my father, but still I keep the faded painting of my family.

Marcel showed his dedication to me in the greatest way five years ago, when I had been with him for six years. We had kept my transformations secret for all that time. However, one day an old beggar saw me go for a swim. She ran to tell authorities about my situation. Marcel bribed her, saying he would give her a hundred gold and, eventually, a place to live. After that he decided we had to move.

Cities were too dangerous, so we started a secret project. We hiked around the general area of Imperial City until we found a hill with an odd rock formation. Than we began our work. Always by torchlight in the night, protected by the hill, we began by moving the rocks. The hill itself was slightly horseshoe shaped and quite large. Not that it needed to be for our purposes. We maneuvered the rocks to create an archway with a six foot tall rock in the middle. We hollowed out the rock and dug inside for the entrance. Finally we rigged the rock to a chain and put our entrance in. People who knew about it only need push the rock in all the way to a snug outlet past the first tunnel. When inside they would pull a chain and the rock would be pulled back in to place.

Next we began constructing the tunnels, always six feet tall with a ribbed wooden support to eliminate the possibility of cave-ins. The first tunnel went all the way to the back of the hill, where we dug out a small set up of two bedrooms and a living, cooking, and relaxing main room. Than we went back and dug out another room directly at the tunnel with storage. Finally we built a third tunnel, with another set-up like ours for the old beggar woman. With a few doors added in and some decorations the place felt like home. After a little less then a year we had a place to stay, away from prying eyes, but still close enough to the city to make a living.

The old woman, Alva Greenwood, was brought a few days later. She loved the idea, and finally revealed her secret. She was a master magician, a sorceress, learned in all the schools of magic. She was a prime member and leader of the Mages Guild, until a grave misunderstanding led to her being kicked out. After that she couldn't get a job, even the Arena didn't trust her. She thanked us, apologized to me, and helped with a few last minute touches. With her help she reinforced the tunnels, and in-fact the entire hill to make sure no cave-ins would occur in any future tunnels. She hid the door, making the rock too heavy unless a counter spell, a password some would say, was uttered. The small complex was complete.

Than the word got out, underground that is, and soon more people joined us. Mabrel, a Breton who was too weak to work, joined us after only a month. We helped build her a one room area, but after that we made an official "you build it yourself" policy on those who were able. The entire point was to live on your own after all. After that came Dro'Ba and his son J'Dato, after a year, and the two Khajiits had no problem digging their own living space. They even offered to help with future tunnels.

After the original six of us seven more came; Godrel, Braste, and their twins Joldi and Haaki. Siltal came by herself, a young seamstress with only her skill and needles and thread to her name. Yazgar Mughar and her husband Bogamu Shug came last, the orcs needed a larger space but they are nice enough.

The whole community got along well. They could work in the city when they needed, buy what they wanted, but never had to pay to stay with us.

We keep two store rooms for everyone to use. One for food, plants, herbs, medicines. Another for weapons, scrolls, clothes, armor, and everything needed for defense. We even dug out a practice area for weapons and magic. Bogamu gives me hand-to-hand training just about every week. Bro'Ba trained me to use the bow and arrow, and Braste is still teaching me to use the sword.

Our lives ran well, at least for a little while.


	2. Chapter One: Life as an Outcast

_Disclaimer; I do not own anything._

**The Outcast Hero**

_Chapter One: Life as an Outcast_

_By; Akuma Usagi_

Work never ends.

My hunting pants make no noise as I crouch down and put an arrow on the string of my bow. I minimize my breathing; take no notice of the wind. All I see is the deer in the grove. So close, but the slightest rustling could send it running. I pull back the arrow, aim for the eye of the buck.

Leaves rustle behind me. As the deer trots off I swing around and stand, arrow at full draw and almost release. A boy about my age is standing there, a nord judging by his blonde hair and blue eyes. Not to mention the braided bit in his hair. My mind snaps out of hunting mode and his appearance finally clicks.

"Haaki! What are you doing here?!" I lower my bow, relaxing the string slowly. For the meat he just cost us I'm still not sure if I'm going to shoot him or not. He smiles and holds up an apple before taking a bite out of it.

"I went around looking for fruit, we're low."

I sigh "Another thing to add on to the list. Of course I would have been able to move on to it if someone didn't scare the deer away" I look at him pointedly.

He holds up his hands and takes another bite out of the apple. He shrugs "I'll go get fruit, I know what the basic ones are you know" He waves and walks away "See you back at home, I suppose!"

He goes one way and I head in the other, moving silently around the forest. The grass is soft, it's late spring so no leaves are on the floor. Tracks lead to the north, maybe north-west, and I follow them. A few minutes later I come to a clearing, sticking to the shadows made by the trees, and look around. There was almost an entire herd here. A plan comes to mind.

I take my pack off, readjusting my vest as it gets dragged, and take out two net traps. I set up the nets near clear paths, the most likely path for a panicked deer, and head to the other side. I aim for the middle deer, drinking from a small stream coming from the west. Its antlers were large, and I waited until it looked up and to the side to take my shot. It makes no noise as it falls to the ground.

The rest of the herd runs from the shooter, me, and in to the general area of the nets. I tie the antlers of the dead buck to my pack with some rope and go to check on the nets. One is empty, one has a doe. I release the doe and it runs for the herd, after it's gone I gather up my nets and the buck and start walking back to where I came from. A few minutes past my first shooting spot is a cart with the rest of today's cart on it. Three small birds and a boar. I load the deer on to the cart and go to the handle. Getting started is tough but I soon have it moving. The songs of birds sound around me, the peaceful sounds calm me. Life outside is beautiful.

After a short while I reach Outcast's Haven, the unofficial name of our home. I park the cart right outside the entrance area of the tunnel town and knock on the hollowed rock door. The sound echoes to a little alcove where someone should be waiting. Sure enough Marcel comes out and takes the deer off the cart. I pick up the rest in one of the nets and we cover the cart up with a grass like covering, which is really just very well done fabric work, and push it over to the side of the hill. If you don't know it's there, you aren't going to find it.

We chat as we head inside, Marcel pulls on the chain to close the door and we start to walk towards the store room. The tunnels are lit well with fires in small holes in the walls, fed by tiny pools of oil. The entire structure had advanced since the time we built it. The floors started as packed dirt, then became wood, and finally it was carpeted. Siltel had advanced her skill in weaving for that, and is working on carpets for the other tenants too. The walls were completely boarded with wood except for the fire-holes.

Our going was silent, the walk taking us longer with the weight of today's catch. Finally, we reach the store room and push the wooden door open. The few vegetables we have lay in a pathetic heap on shelves to the right. Bogamu sits in a corner, leaning back in his chair and napping, waiting for meat to prepare. A smoking fire sits to his right; an enchanted ventilation shaft leads upwards and disperses the smoke in to thin air before it reaches the top.

Marcel smiles and kicks the chair leg playfully. Bogamu shoots up, pulling a dagger.

"Hey, who goes there?!"

I laugh and Marcel rolls his eyes "Who do you think, Bogamu? Not many people come and go."

Bogamo smiles and scratches his head nervously "I suppose I drifted off. Need that meat prepped?"

Marcel nods "Give the birds to Braste, ask her to cook up a stew."

Bogamu grumbles and nods, giving a wave farewell before attending his work. I follow Marcel and walk back to our home. As we enter the door he brings up the subject I was waiting for.

"We're running low on food."

"We have before" I lounge on a wooden chair, happy to sit after a long morning of hunting. "We may yet get more food than we need."

Marcel sighs and shakes his heads "No. We depend on hunting and gathering, we can't keep farms without sunlight. The only other option is gold. We'll need to earn some and buy food from town."

I sighed, knowing what was coming next. Precious jewels were hard to find without mining for them, sadly this hill doesn't have any, but there is one source nearby. Beds of pearl creating clams lay scattered on the bottom of the river outside Imperial City. I have only had to go diving for pearls one other time, and we built a hideout nearby for me to dry off at in case I needed to again.

I stand, sling my bag over my shoulder, and walk out the door. The tunnels seem to fly by as I get lost in thought, retreating in to my own head where I am a great adventurer. Pure Imperial. Sometimes I am champion of the Arena, or guild master of the Mages Guild, or even the King's adviser. Although since the Septim blood line ended about the time my parents were attacked we haven't had a true king. Only a puppet that sits on the throne and does what the head councilman wishes.

The rock door opens with ease and I step in to the sun. The air is warm now; the sun has risen farther in to the sky since I was last out. I walk contently, taking off the fur vest and leaving the light linen shirt with puffy sleeves. The shirt did not rest on my shoulder but right below. Leather ties bound it under my collarbone. It was one of the most comfortable things I owned. That is, besides the soft leather boots that adorned my feet. I slip the fur vest in to my pack and sling it back over my shoulder.

The going is quick, though I have to walk past where the circle runs around the city and towards where a small wooden bridge goes across the water. The sparkling blue water is unpolluted; fish could be seen swimming through the water. I look to my right and sure enough there's the hidden hiding spot. A small, green, circular bush that looked normal and out of place at the same time. It's quite tall for a bush too, being four feet tall. Still it was hidden enough. I walk over and lift the top away revealing a hollow bit all the way down with a small ditch dug in to the ground with soft leaves layering the bottom. Exactly where I would sit while my transformation wore off. I take a quick look around, no one in sight, and change in to a leather one piece that covered me up but wouldn't drag me down. The work of Silcil, the woman more than earned her keep.

I drop the pack in to the hole and head over to the water. What made people freak was my actual transformation, not seeing an argonian, so as soon as I was changed I could head anywhere in the water I chose. I hated the changed still; it brought so many bad memories back. I couldn't even take a bath without changing in to an argonian. The water was deep enough so I went across the bridge, to the middle, and dived in. As soon as the cold water hit my face the change started. A ripple passed over my skin as scales started to grow. It itched and caused a dull pain, nothing serious.

Fins grew on my head as my hair seemed to retract. Finally the most uncomfortable part, my tail grew and began to propel me through the water. I scan the sand below me with new eyes, able to see through the water better as an Argonian than as an Imperial, despite my eyes appearing the same. The first bed of clams appears nestled next to a rock. I take a tool out of the pocket of the leather dress still on me and force the first clam open. A small pearl is nestled inside. I yank it out before the clam can close again. The next few yield ones of similar size. Still, each would be worth about ten or fifteen gold.

The rest of my swim goes on like this, some clams not having any pearls or just tiny ones. As I am about to give up I try one more and gasp in water. The pearl inside was quite large and must have been filling the clam's mouth; I'm surprised it didn't burst!

I pocket the pearl and replace it with a smaller one, in thanks to this clam. It shuts its jaws, appearing content, and I swim away. I get as close to the bridge as I can and poke my head out. The warmth starts drying me almost immediately and no ones in sight. I jump out, minding the pearls, and run for the bush. In less than a minute I reach it, open the hatch like door, and sit inside waiting to dry. The bush traps the heat inside surprisingly. I start to nod off; since it is humid it will take me awhile to dry at any rate.

I start to slip in to sleep, leaning against the leaves of the bush, and begin to dream of a better me. A girl who doesn't have to live in holes and hunt for pearls to live. A champion of Tamriel. A champion of the Gods. Or maybe just as lowly as champion of the Arena.

Sleep takes me and I decide I'll rest, just for a few minutes, in the mild comfort this bush could offer.

A.N; I would have ended the chapter here, but that is just boring to the reader(s). So I'll start where Chapter Three was supposed to…

The sun is farther along in its course now, it must have been hours since I fell asleep. My hands are back to skin, and the ripple of the change is gone. I stretch as much as I can and satisfactory pops sound from my back and shoulders. I switch in to my other clothes, placing the now dry leather dress in to the pack, and open the leafy latch on top of the bush.

It's far past midday, almost to dinner time, and I am late. A silent curse sent to the heavens I run towards the rock; glad to see I am mostly alone so as to not draw suspicion. Only the animals are close enough to see me as they scurry away.

In less than half the time it took me to reach the water I am back at the rock entrance, opening the rock, and finally slipping inside. I rush to mine and Marcel's rooms to find the door open, and a scene playing out.

Haaki's mother and sister, Braste and Joldi, are talking seriously with Marcel. Braste is doing most of the talking in gulped and tear-jerked sentences while Joldi is silent except for a few spoken words.

Gaining some courage to ask I walk over to the trio, before I can utter a word Braste turns to me, tears down her eyes.

"Haaki. Haaki is gone."

My eyes go wide on their own "How long ago? How?"

Joldi turns, her eyes are red and puffy from crying over her twin. She looks in to my eyes and spits out a word "Bandits."


End file.
